


(A Lot Can Happen In) Six Hours

by freckledandspectacled



Series: Six Hours [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Or Is It?, Psychopaths In Love, Until the New Episode Airs in 20 Minutes lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckledandspectacled/pseuds/freckledandspectacled
Summary: A missing scene from Ed and Oswald's prison break, and what might have happened after they walked away.





	(A Lot Can Happen In) Six Hours

**Author's Note:**

> I read through this once, no Beta. I really just want to get my thoughts on these two out there before canon destroys it.

Oswald ducks beneath his opponent's guard and knocks the gun from his hand with a severe blow from his elbow. With a slash at his neck the fight is over and the man drops, same as any other. So much for his blade being too thin, he recalls mockingly. He hears a cry behind him and turns to see Ed struggling with his own quarry. He’s managed to take the gun out of the equation, but in close quarters his crowbar is not much use. The guard throws a punch at Ed’s side and Oswald eyes widen as he watches Ed drop his only weapon with a scream.

For a moment he considers moving on, simply watching as the guard pushes Ed back into the wall and catches hold of his wrist. Oswald can pick locks, he doesn’t need Ed for that. Then the guard has Ed face-first against the wall and Oswald actually sees his knees buckle. He hears a small cry of pain as the guard shoves one arm up Ed’s back and catches his other wrist so he can cuff him. Watching the guards beat Ed down earlier had given him a sick thrill; he’d been happy to watch. It’s easy to pinpoint what’s changed. He’s been working with Ed under the illusion of camaraderie and cooperation as they fought together and, admittedly, it’s been _fun_.

He hasn’t felt that connection since…

Well, if he’s being honest, Ed was truly the _only_ one he could do this with and feel so very... _alive._ Before he’s truly processed the following course of action, he’s scooping the crowbar up from where Ed’s dropped it and bashing his attacker’s head in with it.The man drops, and Oswald finishes the job with a few more quick, hard blows.

“Thank you,” Ed says, voice small. Oswald hands him back the crowbar and turns, heading for the next room. 

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Ed pushes himself off the wall and staggers slowly after Oswald, wondering if the other man has noticed his slowed pace. Probably not. Perhaps he thinks it’s out of deference to the other man’s limp. Ha. If he could, Ed would be striding ahead to show Oswald just how little he cared for him, refusing to slow his pace and putting his long legs to good use as he forced Oswald to scramble to keep up. No, the only reason he isn’t is that he physically _can’t_. Not currently, anyways. 

The guards had done a number on him, and he hadn’t been able to remove his jumpsuit and asses the damage after Oswald had woken. They hadn’t yet had the chance to bruise by the time Oswald woke up; his torso had been littered with angry red marks documenting each and every blow of the guard’s clubs. He didn’t feel comfortable undressing in front of Oswald, despite the fact that Oswald’s interest had seemingly been lost to the river, along with whatever affection he had once held for Ed. No, it was because he didn’t want Oswald to see the damage, the visible evidence that he had outwitted Ed with nothing more than a metal lunch tray. He’d rather not give Oswald the satisfaction of seeing his handiwork, thank you very much.

A very small part of him, which he squashed down the instant it decided to offer it’s _unwanted_ opinion, suggested to him that he didn’t want to take off the jumpsuit because Oswald’s reaction to may only provide further evidence that he truly no longer loved him. That Ed was no longer desirable to him. Suppose he undressed and Oswald mocked him, praising the damage the guards had done? It would be the final nail in the coffin, the ultimate confirmation. Ed had once dreamed about Oswald laying gentle kisses on his skin, telling him how attractive he was. Seeing those cold blue eyes flick over his body with contempt would kill that dream for good. Ed could not bring himself to risk that, even when all the evidence suggested that the only thing Oswald felt for him now was _hated_. Why add more evidence to that inexhaustible list? Ed would rather spare himself that pain. He’s so lost in thought, he’s hardly paying attention when Oswald shouts, “Heads!” 

Unfortunately, Ed had never been particularly good at dodgeball, or any other activities which required having a quick reaction time. In the instant it takes for him to ground himself back in reality and process the meaning of Oswald’s urgent cry, he freezes. A dart whizzes by his face. Oswald abandons his cover and tackles Ed, pushing him behind a table as the guard fires at him again. He lands hard on top of Ed, and Ed gasps as the breath is knocked out of him. It’s preferable, in a way, because what he really wanted was to scream as Oswald crushed his battered ribs further.

Oswald rips the crowbar from his weak grasp and smashes it into another guard's hands as she comes around the corner, gun first. That done, Oswald pulls her behind the cover of the table and finishes the messy business of killing her. Ed shakily sits up and sticks his arm out for the gun, taking hold of it and using it to shoot the other guard, who was attempting to flank them around opposite side of the table. Peering over the table, he sees that they’re clear and collapses back behind the it. Fireworks play around the edges of his vision as his body loudly protests any further activity, punishing him with white hot pain from his injuries. Oswald can take care of the other guy.

***

“I need a few minutes,” Ed gasps. Oswald turns his attention back to him as he finishes searching the guards’ bodies for more darts and other useful items, putting them in the pockets of the jumpsuit. Why would the Court give their inmates jumpsuits with pockets, anyways? It just makes it easier to hide things. He’s already slit the throat of the guard Ed shot, so he won’t be getting up anytime soon. A relatively painless death, he thinks, recalling the pain of his own ‘demise’.

“You get one,” he barks, having little sympathy for Ed after what he’s been put through. Especially seeing as Ed had dished out the worst of it.

“I’m serious,” Ed wheezes, moving a hand to hold his side. He hasn’t moved from his position on the floor since shooting the guard, and his face is rather pale...

“… is it bad?” Oswald asks, busying himself some more with hiding the guards’ bodies from plain view of anyone quickly checking the room. He’d rather not have the whole place sounding the alarm on them before they make their exit. He’s a killer, not an idiot.

“It’s not good,” Ed hisses, clearly not in a talking mood. Good. Earlier, Oswald had been convinced the man never shut up anymore.

“We don’t have time for this,” Oswald says, impatient to move on now that there’s nothing else to do in here.

“Well excuse me,” Ed begins sarcastically, “it’s not as though I _planned_ to get pulverized during my prison break.” Oswald sighs. Fine, so this situation had been somewhat of his own making. He’ll just do what he can for Ed now so they can get going again.

“Let me see,” he says, kneeling next to Ed. Looking back, his injuries had probably also contributed to his poor performance with the last lackeys they’d encountered. Oswald will have to keep in mind that Ed is all but useless as they go forward. He can still back him from a distance, Oswald strategizes, of that Oswald has no doubt...

“No,” Ed says levelly, staring him down. Oswald breaks from his reverie. 

“Ed, I’m trying to help,” Oswald insists, ignoring him and reaching for the collar of his jumpsuit. He’s reminded of himself as a stubborn child, when Gertrude had to ply him with sweets to get him to sit still long enough to apply plasters to his wounds.

“I said no!” Ed yells. Oswald pulls his hands back, sensing the danger in his tone. They have a truce, but Ed might still hurt him.

“We need to do something,” Oswald says, “or would you rather lie here in pain than let me help you?

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Ed hisses, somehow enunciating every syllable at the same time. His eyes are glazed over, probably fighting back tears while he tries to collect himself and compartmentalize the pain. Oswald understands the feeling.

“Fine!” he yells, throwing his hands up and moving to stand using the edge of the table. Logically, he knows they wouldn’t have intentionally harmed Ed to the point that there was serious internal damage. Yet a part of him is panicking over the possibility that they _might_ have, that he will have to drag Ed to a hospital despite his wanted status. Hold a gun to a doctor’s head while Ed bleeds from the inside and Oswald demands that they _fix him_ -

“There’s really nothing we can do for me here, without proper medical supplies. I just have to deal with it,” Ed says, his voice softer now that Oswald is not longer in close proximity to him. Clearly, Ed perceives him as a threat to the same degree that he perceives Ed. “I think I can continue now, I just needed to catch my breath and wait for the pain to let up- Oswald, hold on, there’s something in your collar.” Ed’s eyes refocus near his neck, though his eyes are still cloudy from what Oz assumes is pain. Oswald halts his attempt to stand, and Ed reaches out a hand before Oswald can scoot back, pulling a dart loose from the folds of fabric around his neck. From the angle he removes it, Oswald can tell it was fired from behind him, when he-

"Our truce didn't include protecting one another,” Ed states evenly. Apparently, he’s come to the same conclusion as Oswald. After all, he _is_ a forensic scientist, Oswald reasons. The shot must have been from when he left cover to tackle Ed, risking another encounter with those potent darts and, apparently, nearly taking one that had been meant for Ed. Good thing he had, or he’d be dragging Ed out of here alone and then waiting for him to wake up while the clock ran down on their six hour agreement.

"It was implied,” Oswald says, thinking about the logistics of getting out of here alone. Their initial agreement had definitely been made with cooperation in mind as they made their escape together.

"Not to that degree!" Ed blurts, staring intently at the dart in his hand. The tears that were threatening to leak from his eyes appear to have rescinded their advance, he notes.

"Shut up, Eddie,” Oswald says. So perhaps the truce hadn’t extended to risking their own safety for one another, but it had been a decision made in the heat of the moment. If Ed went down, that only made it worse for Oswald. That was all. It was just instinct to protect him. Instinct. Even after…

"Eddie?" Ed asks, eyes finally leaving the dart to search Oswald’s face. He seems to forget the previous line of conversation in favour of focusing on this new nickname instead.

"You don't like Ed or Edward and I'm not calling you Riddler,” Oswald justifies. Truthfully, he’d been hoping to piss Ed off with it earlier, but it had just come out. The way he’s phrasing it now makes it sound more like a compromise than the insult he had initially intended it to be. Ed shakes his head and then pushes his glasses back into place. 

"You're trying to distract me, why did you do that?" Ed asks.

"Do what?" Oswald snaps, rolling his eyes. He’d already explained it.

"You saved me,” Ed insists, sitting up a little further on his elbows to look more closely at Oswald. He suddenly feels like he’s under a microscope, with those keen eyes on him behind blood spattered lenses.

"We need each other to get out of here,” Oswald tries.

"Oh, please, you were handling it just fine on your own. I've hardly done anything,” Ed says. _Gee, he’s surprisingly modest now that it’s convenient for him to be_ , Oswald grouses. Anything to prove a point.

"Shut up, _Eddie_ ,” Oswald says again, hoping to inject the new nickname with the amount of vitriol he’d originally intended it to have.

"Fine, _Ozzie_. I just think you should make up your mind. One minute you're having the guards club me and the next you're preventing them from doing that very same thing. _Twice_ , I might add,” Ed points out. Oh, how Oswald _hates_ him when he’s right. To think, how he used to love it…

"I'm the only one who gets to kill you, alright? That was the deal. We help each other get out of here so that _I_ can be the one to kill you. You being locked away in here doesn’t help me to that end,” Oswald states, hardening his heart to the probing look in Ed’s gaze.

"So you didn’t risk your life for me because you still have feelings for me?” Ed asks, and _damn_ , but he’s right. He’s right, and Oswald absolutely cannot let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

"You seem oddly fixated on the fact that I love you,” he counters. Ed gapes like a fish, then is silent, glaring daggers at him while he thinks of a response. "Yeah, thought so,” Oswald says, smug. Suddenly, Ed’s eyes light up with something like excitement. Oswald had expected fury at being thwarted, unless...

"So you still love me,” Ed says, smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

"What? No. I don't,” Oswald stutters unevenly.

"You do!” Ed gushes, leaning in closer, a wide grin still plastered falsely on his face, “You said I was fixated on the fact that you _love_ me, present tense."

"Loved, I meant loved. And that doesn't take away from the fact that you keep bringing it up. It sounds to me like between the two of us, the only one who needs to ‘ _get over it_ ’ is _you_ ," Oswald mocks, throwing Ed’s earlier words back in his face.

***

Cold washes over him. Oswald had somehow managed to turn the spotlight back onto _Ed’s_ feelings, which he had desperately wanted to avoid. Not thinking about it had worked very well so far, thank you very much. So he had killed a half dozen people, had a short lived drug addiction, and made himself the GCPD’s most wanted. He was _coping._ This was how villains _coped_. 

“That’s- that’s not the point-”

“No, Ed, the _point_ is: I _told_ you that killing me would change you, and look what you went and did,” Oswald says, leaning back into Ed’s space where he had been withdrawing before. The advantage his, now. “You went and got yourself a shiny new suit, and a new identity as _The Riddler_.” Ed falls back onto his elbows, Oswald’s face coming too close for comfort as he bites the air around Ed’s new title. He’s been waiting for Oswald to call him by his chosen title this entire time, but now that he has… it just feels empty.

“Sounds to me like you changed a fair deal,” Oswald continues, not letting up for a moment. “Do you remember what I said? I know you do, you remember everything. _Tell me what I said!_ ”

_By doing this... it will change you... This won't be a crime of passion or self-preservation. This will be the cold-blooded murder of someone you love._

Ed recoils, pushing Oswald back so hard he falls onto his ass. Oswald catches himself on his hands, and he looks genuinely crazed.

“Earlier you said that you became the Riddler when you killed me, I don’t know how much clearer I can be!” Oswald shouts without regard for the attention it might be drawing, not moving to come any closer. “Killing me changed you, just like I said it would. It changed you because you _love_ me, Edward Nygma, just as I love you! Seeing you… what you’ve done since.. I know that now. You can deny it all you want, but it won’t change anything!”

Ed covers his face with his hands and tries to breathe. Oswald was right, his death had been the catalyst for his transformation into the Riddler. What does it mean for his new persona, knowing that Oswald never died when everything Ed had become was was forged in his death? 

“You're right.” With Oswald alive, the Riddler was intrinsically meaningless, rendered utterly obsolete. Ed has to kill him again, before the doubt can set in about the necessity of killing him, before he ruins everything by questioning the choices that led him here, that made him stronger. The Riddler is the strongest version of himself, a man without love and friends but with enough confidence and charisma to make up for it. It is vital to Ed that he believe that. He needs to act quickly, needs to set things to rights before the once solid foundation of his new self turns to quicksand beneath him. He can’t go back now, can’t rehash every question he believed he’d solved to get to this point. Oswald must die, or he risks regressing and losing everything he’s accomplished, the whole painstaking process of finally learning to _be_ the Riddler. No, he won’t go back to being the nervous, jittery loser he once was, not now that he’s come so _far_. Not now, not ever.

“And that is _precisely_ why I need to kill you,” he finishes. If he kills Oswald, for real this time, then everything is back as it should be. Besides, Oswald is planning to kill him as well. If it was kill or be killed, then the continued existence of the Riddler was far more pressing than that of the Penguin. The Riddler cannot die, and to do that, Oswald must take his place. A life for a life. The very reasoning he had used when he attempted to kill Oswald in the first place. Funny how things came full circle, Ed muses, grinning wildly as he turns to face Oswald again. For Ed to be born anew, Oswald had needed to die. Now for the Riddler to continue living, he has to remain dead.

“Not if I don’t kill you first,” Oswald sneers, getting to his feet. Ed stands as well. The shooting pains in his sides are still there, but they’re manageable now. 

“But you still love me,” Ed mocks, trying to tower over Oswald using his advantage of height.

“Just because I love you doesn't mean I’m not going to _kill you_ for what you did to me,” Oswald growls, and suddenly Ed doesn’t feel quite so physically imposing. He recalls Oswald’s stories from when he had been spying for Falcone. There was a woman Falcone had loved, who reminded him of his mother. She had betrayed him to Fish Mooney, and Falcone had done her in himself, strangling her to death with his bare hands. Ed feels chills, but he refuses to shudder and appear weak in front of Oswald. He can’t help but wonder how Oswald would prefer to do it, if he’d want to touch Ed’s skin with his hands or caress him with a blade instead.

“Then it appears we’re at an impasse,” Ed says, tilting his head and smiling widely. No, the intensity of feeling between them changed _nothing_. 

“It would appear so,” Oswald says plainly. There’s no perceivable threat inherent in his delivery, it’s the meaning of the words themselves that holds the danger.

“I told you once that love was our greatest weakness... this is how it has to be,” Ed decides. Both of them loving one another, but having to kill one another to move forward. Men like them were not meant to love. Oswald smiles, and it’s bittersweet.

“I once promised you the path you were on would lead to nothing but destruction and pain.” Oswald’s teeth seem sharper, somehow. “It would be remiss of me not to follow through on my promises, especially ones made to an _old friend_.”

***

It takes them another fifteen minutes to get to their final obstacle, a large metal door. By now they’ve killed scores of men, and Ed can feel his blood-soaked jumpsuit sticking to his chest. They ram the door together with their shoulders, grunting with the effort as they move in sync next to one another in order to force it open. Everything hurts, but they’re so close now, so _very_ close. Ed can bear this momentary pain if the reward is his freedom. He holds tightly onto the crowbar, desperate not to drop it even as the impact of hitting the door sends spasms of pain shuddering through him. He’ll need it on the other side if Oswald decides to stop playing nice now that they’re home free. They banter and posture afterwards, weapons held aloft and dropped together in a moment of mutual understanding between them.

“I suppose we’ll see,” Ed tells him, and it feels like saying goodbye. The only problem is, he’s not sure he wants this to end.

“I suppose so,” Oswald says, a close-lipped smile on his mouth. It reminds Ed of the smiles Oswald used to direct his way. He’s missed those smiles, and seeing a close approximation sends pangs through him. Or perhaps that’s just his ribs. Ed turns to go, breaking eye contact at last. He needs to escape that feeling, but first…

He casts a glance over his shoulder, hoping the sight of Oswald’s determined gait putting distance between them as quickly as he can manage will strengthen his own resolve. Instead, he meets Oswald’s eyes again as the other man looks over his own shoulder to follow Ed’s retreat. Ed turns away, feeling as though he’s been caught doing something wrong. The adrenaline rush from their verbal sparring is beginning to fade. When had he last been that excited, truly? Certainly not when he was posturing in an attempt to lure the court. Lucius Fox had provided some measure of thrill, but not to the same degree that killing _with_ Oswald had brought him. Has he even really felt alive since the last time he saw Oswald? His feet stop of their own accord. Even his drug induced hallucinations had not provided what he needed from Oswald. They hadn’t been real. They hadn’t made him _feel_.

What good was being the Riddler if he was so… _numb_? So very numb, _all_ the _time_. Part of him insists that he has to give it time, that he’s only feeling these doubts because Oswald’s return has thrown a wrench in the works and made him doubt himself. Another, much larger part, is in a state of panic. Perhaps this is the last time he’ll feel this high, this _honestly_ giddy. Everything else was just a show. What if Oswald really was the _only_ one? And if Ed kills him? What then? Will he never feel anything of equal magnitude to the rush that Oswald triggers in him? The excitement, the sheer _delight_ that only he could ever ignite… Once Oswald is dead, it’s possible that he may never experience something like this again.

“Oswald! Wait,” he calls out, before he’s even thought the wisdom of this decision through. That’s unlike him. The feelings Oswald creates in him are clouding his judgement. Yet it’s those feelings he fears losing more than he fears losing control over himself. Somehow his emotional reasoning has taken precedence for the time being. 

”I can’t deny that there’s always been... some measure of _thrill_ involved in being with you like this.” He’s walking back, letting his confidence do the talking, until suddenly he realizes that he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. His relationship with Oswald had never broached the level he’s thinking about. But it’s a level to their relationship he wants to experience at least _once_ before Oswald dies and the possibility is lost to him forever. If their chemistry burns this hot in the absence of more sexual elements... he needs to know what it would be like. He can’t allow Oswald to die again without having that answer. It had been his one regret, not knowing what it would be like having someone who makes him feel things no one else has. Ed clears his throat awkwardly. 

“We still have five hours left in our agreement, and five hours is… a lot could happen in five hours,” he finishes weakly. This wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d like it. 

Oswald narrows his eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“No, I- this. _We_ could happen in five hours.” He’s not making any sense, but Oswald wasn’t catching on to his meaning as quickly as he’d hoped. He hasn’t even considered the ramifications this may have. Oswald still needs to die, and an interaction on that level may only make things worse for Ed if- _when_ he does. 

“What are you talking about?” Oswald says, not walking away, but still letting Ed rapidly approach him. He’s passed their dropped weapons now, Oswald’s continued presence encouraging him. At least he hasn’t been dismissed outright.

“I don’t want to talk about any of it,” he says firmly. Talking would only make him _think_ about the potentially stupid decision he is about to make, and he’d rather be blissfully ignorant right now. “I’m just suggesting we relieve some of this... _tension_ , before we go back to trying to kill each other.” 

***

Oswald can’t believe what he’s hearing. Ed was suggesting, what? One last hurrah before they killed one another? He’d never pinned Ed for one to be into hate sex. It doesn’t mesh right for Oswald. They’ve both confessed to still loving one another, and yet still Ed insists that he needs to kill Oswald. It’s his blind determination to go through with it, despite his feelings for Oswald, that have hardened Oswald’s resolve as well. If Edward Nygma was in love with him and was still trying to kill him, Oswald could do the same. When it came down to kill or be killed, Oswald knew what he’d do, just as he’d done many times before under less dire circumstances. At this point, sex would only complicate Ed’s plans for him. Why make things so messy, what is he playing at?

“Why are you doing this?” he asks outright.

“Maybe I want you to die knowing what you could have had. Why are you questioning it? I know you want me,” Ed says, halting his approach and seeming unsure, despite his confident statement. So he didn’t want Oswald prying. Fine. 

"What makes you think I still want you?” he sneers. It was one thing to proposition him, it was quite another to assume Oswald would unquestioningly jump into bed with him at the first opportunity. He was still _going to_ , of course, but Ed didn’t need to have that satisfaction. His ego had grown large enough in Oswald’s absence. Ed seems to deliberate for a moment before answering.

__

"I think we never stop wanting something, especially you, Oswald. You’re not a man to give up on getting what he wants.” Well then. He always had been surprisingly astute when it came to Oswald. That is, to everything except Oswald’s romantic feelings for him. No, Oswald was not one to give up on going after what he wanted, but he had all but given up on Ed. Maybe this would be a step towards winning him back, with the added bonus of fulfilling Oswald’s as-yet unfulfilled desire for him. It wouldn’t hurt Oswald any to sleep with him. Perhaps after Ed was gone… but in this moment all he can consider is the opportunity he would be missing by rebuffing Ed now. If this could somehow disarm Ed, get him to see that they could be good together… How could he turn that chance down?

__

Oswald takes him by the hips, walking him backwards until he’s pressed against the alley wall. He pushes his body flush against Ed and smiles wickedly. So Ed wanted to play this off as hate sex, as nothing more than a sexual release between nemeses? Oswald could do that.

__

“Then I was right,” Oswald says, nosing under the collar of Ed’s jumpsuit at his neck, “I have you just where I want you.” He crashes their mouths together, biting at Ed’s lips more than he kisses them. Oswald isn’t quite sure what the proper way to kiss someone is, anyways. Ed moans and pulls him closer, arms wrapping around his back and shoulders. Oswald keeps his hips pinned to the wall with his hands, relenting when Ed slips down and- oh, _oh_.

__

Ed undoes his jumpsuit and takes him into his mouth. He’s hot, and wet, and warm. Oswald puts a hand on the back of his head, intending it as a barrier between Ed and the brick as he begins pushing inside. When he comes he holds Ed down and makes him take it all. Ed coughs and chokes, spit and come dripping out of the corners of his mouth to land between Oswald’s feet before he blanches and spits the rest out as well. Oswald sways on his feet but pulls Ed up, spitting on his hand and shoving it into Ed’s jumpsuit. He pulls at him until Ed bites down on his shoulder to muffle his cries, hips jerking erratically into Oswald’s palm as he finishes.

__

Oswald holds Ed up when his knees threaten to buckle, pressing him back against the brick again to keep him vertical. When Ed suggests they go somewhere more comfortable to spend the remaining time on the clock, he agrees without hesitation. If Ed truly wanted to kill him, he’d had ample opportunity. Oswald had him in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Ed can pretend there is no love between them, it’s no skin off his back. He doesn’t care what Ed’s reasoning is anymore. He is going to take what he can, while he still can. If he’s lucky, he may even trip Ed’s reasoning up in the process.

__

***

__

The first push of Oswald inside of him is almost unbearable. Ed had wanted as little preparation as possible, the act of Oswald fingering him open too intimate for what this was supposed to be. Oswald thrusts before he’s ready and Ed nearly shrieks, the motion jarring his ribs while his cock feels like it’s tearing into him.

__

“That hurts,” he whimpers, digging his nails into Oswald’s back as some form of punishment.

__

“Good,” Oswald snarls, though he immediately relents and stills. When he’s ready, he tells Oswald, but the other man seems hesitant now after hurting him. He’s slow and gentle, and it feels too much like making love. Ed pretends the tears on his face are from that first push Oswald had made inside of him, and not everything that followed. He goads Oswald into going harder, faster. Ed wants this rough, wants it to hurt. Yet even when Oswald finally picks up the pace at Ed’s insistence, the slide of his cock inside of Ed is smooth, and it feels _so_ good. Ed tells Oswald he hates him when Oswald finally finds the perfect spot inside of him to send pleasure tingling up his spine. Oswald touches him before he asks him to, and with a few strokes he’s coming over his hand for the second time in an hour. Oswald doesn’t take too much longer, and he leaves another bite on Ed’s neck as he comes. Ed shudders at the hard press of teeth. He wonders how long the mark will last, if it will have faded by the time one of them manages to kill the other. Oswald pulls out of him, watching with rapt attention between Ed’s legs. Ed spreads them further, tilting his hips back so Oswald can inspect him better.

__

“Am I bleeding?” Oswald seems to shake his head clear.

__

“What? No, just-” He reaches forwards, and Ed gasps as fingers press back against him. They delve inside and he hisses.

__

“Stop,” he gasps, hips twitching. He hadn’t expected to be so sensitive afterwards. Every press of Oswald’s fingers was electric, his rim practically throbbing. Oswald pulls his fingers free and marvels at them a moment.

__

“You let me fuck you without a condom,” Oswald states, moving up the bed to lay beside him. Ed hums and nods, the sex has made him very drowsy. 

__

“You let me come inside of you,” Oswald says, as though this is somehow also unbelievable. 

__

“I wanted you to,” Ed says plainly, removing his glasses. He rolls, facing away from Oswald as he deposits his glasses on the nightstand. He sets his alarm for an hour. Rolling back, he faces Oswald, then works himself under the covers. Oswald does the same, mirroring him as he lays on his side.

__

“Did you know you’re my first?” Oswald asks. No, Ed hadn’t. He shakes his head, eyes roving over Oswald’s now-blurry form.

__

“No, I didn’t. I assumed- I mean, I don’t know what I thought.” He’s silent for a moment. “You know, that wasn’t bad, for your first time I mean.” Kristen had once extended him the same courtesy of encouragement, and this information has Ed reflecting on the situation differently. Oswald has just lost his virginity to him, during a not-so-gentle and loving session of what was supposed to be hate sex. It might be the fact that it was not too long ago he himself gave it up for the first time that’s making him feel so awful about this all of a sudden. A first time was supposed to be special... Perhaps he’d have done it differently... maybe he would have done the same. Still, being deprived of the opportunity to make that decision bothers him… No, Oswald is a grown man. He can decide for himself what he wants. Ed doesn’t have any obligations to him, not anymore.

__

“Well, you did get me off earlier. I’m not sure I would have lasted very long at all if you hadn’t. It was… very good,” Oswald says, daring to move a hand out under the sheets and rest it on Ed’s hip. Ed lays down fully, resting his face on his pillow. 

__

“I need a nap,” he says. “We’ve still got time, if you want to stay.” Oswald hesitates, then nods and lays down beside him.

__

Ed wakes to the sound of his alarm and the feeling of Oswald pressing back inside of him. He reaches a hand out to shut it off, but ends up tearing the cord out of the wall and throwing the alarm to the ground when Oswald quickly finds his sweet spot again. At any rate, the alarm is silenced. Oswald rocks into him, slow and gentle. Ed blames it on the fact that they’re drowsy. He’s too sleepy for rough sex. They aren’t making love if this is only a product of their inability to muster up enough hatred for one another to go at it with the same intensity as before. It feels good like this, Oswald spooned behind him, rocking into him as they both lay on their sides. Oswald presses kisses to the back of his neck, his shoulders. Eventually Ed turns his head, reaching an arm behind him to pull Oswald forward by the back of his head to meet Ed’s lips.

__

“Already?” Ed laughs as they break apart. He feels far less tender between his legs, and Oswald seems to have learned a few things about what he likes.

__

“I was saving it all for you,” Oswald says, and Ed can’t see him well enough to gauge if he’s serious or not. Oswald’s hands rove over his front, fingers twisting at his nipples. With Oswald’s mouth laving over his neck, his hands teasing at his chest… it’s a slow build to his next orgasm from there. Oswald is surprisingly attentive to the sensitive areas of his body. His arm comes around Ed’s waist, locking them together as Oswald rolls them so Ed is on top, his back still pressed to Oswald’s chest. He moves his legs so they’re on either side of Oswald’s, head lolling back to rest on his shoulder. Oswald snaps his hips up into him, and with the change of position Ed can move back against him. Not only that, but both of Oswald’s hands are free now to delve between his legs, pulling at him and cupping his balls. He comes panting into the side of Oswald’s neck, eyes squeezed shut as Oswald pulls his third orgasm of the night from him. Ed feels limp, trying to participate but mostly letting Oswald bounce him up and down on his cock until he comes as well.

__

Feeling languid and exhausted, Ed rolls off. He feels Oswald’s cock slip free, this time noticing the feeling of his release dripping from him. Ed lands face down and stays that way, feeling a continual tremor going through his thighs. 

__

Thoroughly exhausted, he mumbles, “If this is hate, I could go on hating you for the rest of our lives.”

__

“It’s not hate,” Oswald says.

__

“You’re still going to kill me,” Ed points out. “If we can’t have love, there’s always hate. And we definitely _can’t.”_

__

“Your pillow talk needs work,” Oswald says. Ed laughs. Pillow talk implied that this was a perfectly normal sexual relationship, when it was actually anything but. “Yes, I suppose I’ll have to kill you, since you keep insisting it’s either me or you, and that this is the only way.” Ed sobers instantly.

__

“It is the only way,” he says. Too much hinged on Oswald being dead, and yet…

__

He hasn’t felt this… stable, in some time. Something about Oswald’s presence is grounding for him. Ed shifts uncomfortably under the sheets. If the Riddler could continue, even while Oswald lived-

__

No. It wasn’t possible. Oswald needed to be dead. 

__

_But why? Why? When this feels so good, so right. When killing with him by my side feels as natural as breathing... when killing without him is just a performance and a game. Who said I can’t have him and be the Riddler. I make the rules..._

__

Except that love was a weakness. It always had been. To be the Riddler, all love had to be stripped away. It was an immutable fact. Love was weakness, and the Riddler was strength. Love and the Riddler were mutually exclusive, and things had to stay that way. That was the order he had decided, the very first thing he had decided with Oswald gone. If he never loved, he would never be weak, and his feelings for Oswald…

__

They made him weaker than anyone else ever had.

__

This was not a decision he made lightly, but his feelings for Oswald, and Oswald’s feelings for him, would only doom them both.

__

“Love conquers all,” Oswald says, sitting up on an elbow to look over Ed. Ed scoffs.

__

“No, it doesn’t.”

__

“I was stronger than ever with you by my side,” Oswald insists, gently brushing hair back from Ed’s face.

__

“You were stronger alone. Your love for me led to the downfall of your empire.”

__

“You’re wrong,” Oswald says plainly. “My inability to tell you what I felt for you before your heart was given to another is what ultimately lead to my destruction. And if I had truly loved you from the start I never would have… never would have tried to steal it back and risk hurting you in the process. No, if I had loved you like I should have- told you of my feelings and respected your right to choose -I would still have you now. You, and my empire.” Ed is speechless. Before, it had been easier to hate Oswald than to miss him, but he couldn’t hold on to that anger. He did miss him, and he has since. Finding out he was alive had led to new complications. Ed realizes now that he loves Oswald, but that is only further incentive to kill him. Love would be his undoing, both of theirs. At least, he thought it would.

__

Oswald didn’t seem to think that was true, but who was right? How could Ed be sure he was making the right decision? What if- no. He needed to stick to the plan. With Oswald gone he would be stronger, he had to believe that.

__

_But have I been stronger? The drugs, the meaningless heists and escapades. My obsession with learning who runs Gotham at the risk of my life. That was just an attempt to avoid thinking about the fact that loving Oswald gave me meaning, direction, purpose... wasn’t it? All things I've been lacking with him gone. It was all merely a distraction, a way to avoid admitting the truth. Perhaps love isn't a weakness, and I've been wrong from the start. All the evidence points to the fact that I’ve never been better than I am when I’m with him… than I am when I’m in love._

__

With Oswald gone, it would only ever be one goal after the other while he tried to leave him behind. But with Oswald by his side… he'd been happy, hadn't he? Genuinely happy. If he’s wrong about love being a weakness, well then, what reason is there to kill him? Why on earth would he kill someone who makes him stronger?

__

“Say you're right,” Ed chokes out. “Say you're right about love… what then? What do we do now?”

__

“Are you serious about this?” Oswald asks. “Because if you're not, I'm not going to hurt myself entertaining fantasies only to be shot down again.” Ed squeezes his eyes shut. 

__

“I- I can't say for sure, I don't know-”

__

“Then don't ask me that ever again.” There’s a cold fire in his eyes, a threat there that Ed ignores.

__

“Oswald, I need to know. Tell me, please. If I tell you I'm not going to kill you, are you still going to kill me?” Oswald deflates.

__

“No… what I said earlier… I couldn't. Not now. Not unless you're going to keep coming after me if I don't.” Ed rolls onto his back and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Oswald loved him, and he wasn't going to kill him unless Ed made a move first.

__

The decision was wholly his. For the first time in his life, his fate was his own. He got to decide whether to keep his lover, or kill him. Kristen had been an accident, Isabella had been Oswald's choice. And Oswald… Oswald was his choice now. Not an accident, not someone else's choice, _his_. The pressure is unbelievable, but he knows what he wants. What he truly wants. The Riddler didn't have to disappear just because Oswald had reappeared. That logic had merely been his last defense against this final choice. He could have both. He _wanted_ both.

__

So does he make the leap, does he go against everything he'd believed about love being a weakness and risk it all for a second chance with Oswald? In hindsight, love being a strength appeared to be the more common theme of his life. Without it, he gets… lost to his impulses, with no clear purpose. That’s no way to live, it’s not how he _wants_ to live.

__

Or maybe should he play it safe, stick to the plan and stubbornly cling to his beliefs. Except… he's been wrong in the past. He’s certainly been wrong about _love_ more than anything. His attempts to prove Oswald hadn't truly loved him had failed, in fact, he'd been wrong about whether Oswald loved him from the start. When it came to love… it was very possible that Oswald knew better than he did. It’s this notion that truly gives him pause.

__

He knows now that Oswald is more well-versed in love than Ed has ever been. Who better to lead him on his new foray into the combination of _love_ and villainy than the very man he'd wanted to guide him on his journey from the start?

__

Suddenly, it truly does seems like fate, like this is how it was always meant to be. Oswald is here to guide him, to challenge his beliefs, to make him stronger. It all makes sense. He sobs, and then Oswald is pulling his hands from his face to look at him.

__

“Ed... Ed? Are you alright?” He looks concerned, of course he does. Ed hiccups on a sob and laughs. 

__

“No, I’m not alright. I love you.” Oswald gapes like a fish. Ed throws his head back and laughs uproariously, tears streaming faster down his face. He’s hyperventilating, he can feel himself growing short of breath. There’s not enough oxygen in the room to continue laughing like this, but he can’t stop.

__

Oswald is telling him to breathe, and he tries. When he stops laughing he feels exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. Oswald tells him to sleep and promises to wake him before the time is up. Oh, that stupid agreement he’d struck. It’s funny to him now, how naive he’d been mere hours before. Oswald pets his hair. It feels very nice, and then it doesn’t feel like anything at all, because he’s asleep.

__

***

__

Oswald stokes Ed’s hair until he sleeps and tries to understand what’s just happened. For the first time, Ed had said aloud that he loved Oswald, and then immediately segued into a manic episode. Clearly it was his feelings for Oswald that were causing him emotional turmoil. Unfortunately, it was up to Ed what they did next. Oswald can’t watch the clock, since it’s down for the count, but he glances at Ed’s watch periodically. He can’t bring himself to sleep again anyways, not when he’s dealing with having finally witnessed the damage he’d inflicted on Ed. Seeing the bruises had been one thing, he knew those would fade. But the rest… the rest could be lasting. He wakes Ed when there’s two hours left in their agreement, shaking his shoulder. Ed yawns, mouth comically wide, and stretches like a cat.

__

“How are you feeling?” Oswald asks. It’s a vague enough question, and at least he’ll be able to gauge if Ed is still with him.

__

“Sore,” he deadpans. Ed looks at where his clock used to be, then picks his watch up off the counter like Oswald had. He balks at the time. “You let me sleep too long,” he accuses, sitting up to face Oswald.

__

“I don’t think you’ve slept long enough, but I did promise to wake you,” Oswald says. Ed rolls his eyes.

__

“You’ll be pleased to know I’ve decided not to kill you,” Ed says casually, examining the hem of his sheets. Oswald’s mind races through the implications of this, but he doesn't want to jump to any false conclusions.

__

“Why the change in heart?” he asks. Ed finally looks up at him, seeking out his gaze.

__

“There was never any change in heart. I’ve loved you… I can’t even guess how long. Maybe not since the first moment I saw you, but then again… I don’t even know that for sure.” Oswald remembers the nervous, jittery loser he’d first met at the GCPD. No, it certainly hadn’t been love at first sight.

__

“I think I first realized it when you got me out of Arkham. You had been visiting me, bringing me things, thoughtful gifts… At first I thought you just liked me better than you had before because I was trapped…” Oswald could understand his hesitance. He hadn’t been kind to Ed during their earliest days, but before he’d been sent to Arkham… they truly had been the best of friends. Then Ed had turned him away, and it was no wonder that he was wary of Oswald after that decision. Oswald had never held it against him, but it had been a point of concern for Ed for a very long time.

__

“But then you sprung the trap and let me into your home. You risked your campaign bringing a murderer onto your staff, and then you made me your _Chief_ of Staff. You framed our certificates and bought me a suit. You cared what I had to say.” Oswald wants to tell him it was nothing, that Ed had saved his life, had brought flowers to his mother's grave when he couldn’t. That he’d not only saved Oswald’s life but given his life _back_ to him in the wake of his mother’s death. He won’t interrupt though, not when it seems like Ed is working through something incomprehensibly important to what happens next for them.

__

“Maybe it was when you answered my riddle. ‘ _I’m worthless to one’_... I thought my feelings weren’t reciprocated.” That long. Oswald feels a pang. Ed _had_ harbored feelings for him, and if Oswald had just _said_ something… where would they be now? He feels regret for the time they’ve lost; this failure will always be something he’ll carry with him. Not only had he failed Ed and himself, but he’d failed his mother as well. He’d been a coward, he’d waited just a hair too long to say something and nearly lost _everything_ for it. He imagines telling Ed he loves him every day for the rest of his life to make up for it, and it seems like a fair trade, if Ed will have him.

__

“I met Isabella... and she was safe, familiar. It was easier and less terrifying than potentially ruining what I had with you. Then she was gone and I was told you’d loved me all along, and I didn’t understand how you could claim to love me after you’d taken a real chance at that from me. It _had_ to be a lie. I tried to prove it was... and you passed my test.” Oswald realizes now that Ed’s proposal they become ‘business partners’ had merely been the first test, a test to see if it was true. Yet just because Oswald _thought_ he had loved him, didn’t make it _real_. Hence Ed’s further scheming to ascertain if Oswald’s feelings fit Ed’s answer to the question of what love is. Ed had been right, in that regard. Oswald hadn’t truly loved him, and if he had he wouldn’t have killed Isabella, he would have let Ed choose. It was that realization, and the realization that he would lay down his life for Ed, that had enabled him to pass that final test.

__

“Then… then I shot you for the hurt you’d caused me, and because I had loved Isabella, Oswald. I really did. Losing her… being lied to and betrayed by you… and then having you claim you’d _loved_ me all along and that was why you’d _hurt_ me… I’ve heard that sort of thing before.” Something about the way Ed says it reminds him of some neighbors from his childhood. He remembers hearing screaming from next door, a father’s insistence that he had to beat his children to teach him a lesson, that he was doing it because he loved them. His mother had taken his hands and looked him in the eyes, she’d told him that you never hurt the ones you love. That he was her darling little Cobblepot and she would never lay hands on him, because good parents did not hurt their children. Oswald had nodded in understanding, because she was a good mother and that meant he was safe from her hand. He had felt sorry for the children next door for not knowing any better, for not knowing that their life was not how it was supposed to be. He was also superior for his knowledge, for having the better parent. It had not stopped them from tormenting him, but it had provided some satisfaction to know that he had something they didn’t. To think that Ed had equated him with something similar… it sends shivers down his spine. With his own words echoing in his mind- ‘ _I did it for love’_ -he can understand with perfect clarity precisely why Ed pulled the trigger. He’d never apologized for hurting Ed, not really, and how was Ed to know that Oswald _wouldn’t_ keep hurting him out of “love” again in the future? He pulls Ed into a hug and hopes Ed can forgive him, that this is where this all is going.

__

“I made myself someone else in order to move on from your loss. I took stimulants. I took them so often and slept so little they started giving me hallucinations. I was going to stop after that, but then I started hallucinating _you_... It changed things. At some point I stopped taking them because they kept me awake and started taking them because they let me see you... this version of you I had created, because I missed having the _real_ you. Because… because when you died you took a piece of me with you.” Oswald’s fingers press harder into Ed’s bare skin. How long had he grieved for Oswald? How much of it had been an act? He hadn’t slept, he’d started taking drugs. _Taking drugs to see me_. Ed had fallen apart while he was gone, and it had been his own fault. Yet despite the scar on his stomach Oswald feels for him. When he lost his mother, Ed had been there for him. When Ed lost Oswald, he’d had no one. What strikes him the most is that Ed apparently found seeing a hallucination of a dead man more comforting than being alone.

__

“When you came back, all I could think about was holding on to the person I’d become without that piece of myself. That piece I thought you had taken with you to your grave… I wanted to remain the Riddler, the version of myself who didn’t need _love_. Love was the piece I eliminated when I killed you, the piece I needed to bury to finally _be_ him. After that, I only desired attention, respect, _fear_. I only needed answers. Finding out that you were alive… I started to remember what it was like to have love in my life. I started to realize how empty the construct I had created truly was. I made the Riddler because I thought love was a weakness, but I see now that- that it could be my strength, if I let it.” Ed pulls out of the hug, and he’s crying. He takes Oswald’s hands in his own. The man Oswald knew as Edward Nygma had boundless enthusiasm for being helpful. He had a deep affinity towards caring for others, and an overwhelming desire for connection, for love and friendship. Oswald doesn’t think he’d recognize the Riddler and Ed as the same person if the Riddler was indeed a man without love. That aside, Ed’s admission that love could be a strength is really what shocks Oswald to his core. The very first ideal he had ever expressed to Oswald was that it was a weakness, nothing more.

__

“It could be our strength. The possibility scares me, because there’s no way of knowing for sure, but I will regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t at least give it a chance. You understand me, Oswald, you _see_ me as no one else ever has. We could be great. We could be Kings. I love you… and I’m ready to try, to find out if love really does conquer all.” Oswald opens his mouth to tell him it’s all he’s ever wanted, but Ed lays a hand over it to silence him. Clearly, he still needs to finish.

__

“That is, if you really can forgive me for all that I’ve done. I am truly sorry I shot you, Oswald. I regret it, but at the same time it felt like necessary retribution. I’m not trying to excuse it, I just need you to understand why. I need you to understand how your actions hurt me and why I did what I did. When you claimed that you hurt me so badly because you loved me… it affected me more deeply than you could possibly know.” Oswald thinks he has an idea, but Ed’s past is not something he wants to sift through right now.

__

“You know it’s already forgiven,” Oswald says, “But can you really forgive _me_? I have so much to make up for…” He pulls Ed’s hands up to his mouth and kisses the knuckles of each. 

__

“Ed, I am so sorry I hurt you. I’m not one for regrets, but I will always regret taking away your freedom to _choose_ me over Isabella. I will regret the hurt that my betrayal caused you for the rest of my life. Of the lengthy list of my sins, I only hate myself for the ones that nearly cost me _you_.” He drops one of Ed’s hands to caress his cheek, carrying his tears away. 

“If you’ll permit me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for it, and respecting you like you deserve.” Ed nods, tears running down his face like a stream.

“I forgive you,” he gasps, “I want this more than anything. This scares me more than anything.” He throws his arms around Oswald’s shoulders and kisses him. Oswald catches him around the waist and falls back, holding Ed so he doesn’t roll off of him.

“I’ll protect you, we’ll protect each other. We’re going to be unstoppable together, I swear to you. Untouchable. This City’s going to know and fear our names,” Oswald says between quick kisses, trying to cover every inch of Ed’s face as he does the same to Oswald. 

***

They kiss for some time, Ed allowing himself to feel safe with this new arrangement, reaffirming in his head that this feeling is not weakness. That Oswald is not his weakness, but his strength. It makes more sense than anything in his life ever has. Oswald is his answer. 

It doesn’t last forever, of course. Eventually, like the criminal masterminds they are, they begin to plot their next course of action. This involves a fair bit of information sharing, in which Ed finds out that Oswald has witnessed the court’s weapon first hand, on a smaller scale. He wishes he were more familiar with the Tetch virus and what it can do, but it’s nothing he can’t find out. Unfortunately, their time together can’t last forever. Ed has already been missing for days, and he can’t stay away from _The Sirens_ for much longer.

“You’ve already been missing,” Oswald pleads, “what’s a few more hours?”

“Every moment I’m gone is another moment that either Butch or Tabitha will believe we’ve been colluding, once I tell them what’s happened,” Ed explains. Oswald sighs, rolling them over. He presses between Ed’s legs.

“Mind if I leave you a parting gift before you kick me out?” He’s hard _again_. Ed’s jaw drops. This would be, what, the fourth time in less than five hours? Somehow, Ed had turned a virgin into a sex addict.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Ed says, spreading his legs again. He’s not _opposed_ to more sex, of course. “However, I’m sure you’d be more comfortable returning to your own base of operations and collecting your things before I inform them that you’ve returned.

“How long do I have?” Oswald asks, opening the lube and preparing himself.

“How long do you _need_?” Ed asks. He’s definitely going to want a shower himself, and a good meal wouldn’t hurt.

“Six hours?” Oswald asks impishly, filling him again. Ed gasps, rocking down onto him. The temporary sting isn’t as off-putting anymore.

“That should be doable,” Ed says. He kisses Oswald, wrapping arms and legs around him to pull them as close together as they can possibly get. They make love, and this time Ed doesn’t pretend it’s anything else. He comes with Oswald’s name on his lips and then watches him, brushing his hair back from his face to see him better, to see how he’s pleasuring him. When Oswald comes inside of him he whispers Ed’s name, and Ed doesn't feel the need to correct him in the slightest. He pulls free, kissing Ed’s forehead and lying back beside him. Oswald puts an arm around Ed and buries his face in his hair, kissing him again.

“Thank you,” he says. “I love you.” Ed looks up at him.

“I love you, too.” It feels like the first real admission, the first time he’s saying it and truly understanding what this means. What it means for him, for _them_. He sits up and kisses Oswald, telling himself that this is real, that this is the right choice. Ed moves them so Oswald is lying on his back, slipping a leg in between his and resting an arm on Oswald’s chest as they kiss.

“I could go for a shower,” Oswald says in an unusually low voice as they part, lips still touching but not quite kissing. Ed pulls back further and looks him over. There’s still blood on him, and he smells kinda funky.

“Yeah, you definitely could.” Oswald slaps his ass. “Ow! What?”

“I was trying to get you to shower with me. You can be so oblivious sometimes,” Oswald says, smiling all the while. It’s his smile that lets Ed know it’s not intended as an insult, but as an affectionate observation. Oswald takes him again in the shower, and Ed nearly kills them both when he comes and his knees buckle, almost sending them crashing down. He takes Oswald into his mouth after that, kneeling under the spray of the shower when he realizes he can barely stand at all, much less with Oswald fucking him against the tile. When they’re finished _actually_ showering together (Ed is starting to suspect that shower sex was Oswald’s plan all along) he finds Oswald some clothes. Ed slips on a clean pair of boxers before rooting around for something suitable for Oswald to wear. First he retrieves an old button-down shirt, the sleeves were a little too short for Ed and fit fine on Oswald. An old pair of slacks that were highwaters on him are still a touch too long for Oswald, so Ed rolls the hem to a better length for him. A temporary fix for a temporary outfit. Oswald puts on the boots the court provided them, and it isn’t until Ed is fetching a coat (to ward off the chill in the air tonight) that he realizes Oswald is actually going to part from him now. He hands it to Oswald, but doesn’t let go.

“What’s wrong?” Oswald says, holding onto the coat but not attempting to take it from him any longer.

“Please be safe,” Ed says. He lets go of the coat and fetches his gun. “Take this, I’ll buy another.” Oswald has already shrugged on the coat and accepts the gun without comment, probably understanding that Ed would insist. He slips it into his coat pocket.

“I’ll be fine. Just bring them to me and we’ll finish this. You know where I’ll be.” Ed nods, leaning down to kiss him again before he goes. It occurs to him that he’s been running around in boxers this whole time, and that he’s probably a strange sight draped around a man dressed in an overcoat. Oswald stops kissing him just as Ed is considering attempting something drastic to keep him here, despite it being his suggestion that Oswald go. “You can tell your precious allies that I’m coming for them.”

“Of course,” Ed says. “How else can I lure them into a trap if they don’t believe they’re your targets as well? Barbara will be easily swayed, and they’ll follow her. She trusts my insight.”

“What will you tell them about the Court?” Oswald asks, “They were the reason you went missing, and Barbara is bound to want answers.”

“Rich men lack for it, poor men have it,” Ed says. “I’ll tell them nothing. Nothing of consequence, anyway. Perhaps a morsel of truth with little meaning before I turn them onto your scent.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Oswald says, moving up onto his toes to kiss Ed while he tugs him down by his shoulders. It’s brief, probably because he knows that if he kisses Ed any longer, neither of them are going to want to stop. Oswald opens the door to the apartment, turning back once he’s halfway through. “I’m expecting you in six hours.”

“I’m very punctual,” Ed says, and then the door closes.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your take on how I characterized Ed and Oswald's thoughts, feelings, and reasoning in this. Did you believe it could be possible, or was this all super OOC to you?
> 
> Or if you just want to keyboard smash I can work with that too.


End file.
